Double D's pain
by H.E.R
Summary: Double D has a secret...I can't really say anything else without giving it away. A little cursing involved. *ENDING UPLOADED!!!*
1. I'll Remember You

Disclaimer; HER, "Poor sad Double D…can I keep him and hold him and love him and make him all better?"  
  
Cartoon Network, "No, you can't. He's ours."  
  
HER, "Well…how about Ed…can I at least keep him?"  
  
Cartoon Network, "No"  
  
"Not even Rolf?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
This pretty much means that no part of "Ed, Edd, N Eddy" is mine. It all belongs to Cartoon Network and its creators. I just borrowed them for this fic…I promise to put them back.  
  
  
  
What am I going to do now? Double D stood in front of the mirror, studying his reflection. It was barely noon and his day already was shot. He'd loved his brother, and would have told him so too, had he got the chance: Had he known. It was hard to believe that he was really gone. He had hardly been there to begin with. Double D only ever saw him when he was at his father's.  
  
Double D turned around and slid down the sink until he sat on the cold floor. He suddenly felt all alone. He couldn't tell Ed and Eddy. He had always told them that he was an only child. It had seemed a lot easier at the time, and at the time it was. Then he had decided not to drag them into his troubled home life. They seemed so happy. It was better not to tell them that "Father" was really his stepfather. Better not to tell them of "Father's" painful lessons. Better not to mention his real father or his twin brother James. No. They wouldn't understand.  
  
Why did he have to get that call? Why did he have to hear those words? Those painful words… "Edward, there's been an accident." And even worse… "Your brother James…is dead." Double D blinked back the tears that had began to form and thought again of the conversation on the phone. Pain turned to rage as he remembered the next words. "I'm sorry."  
  
I'm sorry!  
  
I'm sorry!  
  
What right did that bastard have to say "I'm sorry"? Rage seethed from the youth as he thought of his father and those words. How could he say that? Where did he get off acting as though he had ever really cared about James?  
  
Double D stood again and looked into the mirror. James had looked like that. James had been so young. Double D felt a tear slide down his cheek as he looked into his own face. He watched the tear, thinking of how his brother had always seemed so happy. He was never upset about the cards that life had dealt him. There was no regret in him about his life. No anger, no spite. James had just been happy. Double D remembered wondering how his brother had been able to deal so well with his own home life. He had only visited James and his father every summer, but he couldn't stand the place. It wasn't in the least bit James's fault. No, he just couldn't stand his father or stepmother. He couldn't stand the house. He couldn't stand the other children.  
  
Double D thought back to when he had stayed with them. The house, if it could be called that, was filthy. There was dirt and trash everywhere. He could easily spot silverfish and cockroaches. The sight disgusted him, making him feel as though he would throw up; the smell nearly did.  
  
It had been a warm day, so they decided to play outside. Double D and James were playing on the swings, talking and catching up. The other children played around the playground ignoring the brothers, which was fine by them. James was telling Double D about the great time he that had had fishing with his friend Matt, when their father bellowed for them to come back into the house.  
  
"Yes," questioned James, walking into the house.  
  
"Why the hell is the house such a mess?" Their father stumbled towards them, while gesturing at the horrible condition of the room they were in. "I thought I told you to clean up before Eileen got back home!"  
  
The older man leaned down until he was about eye-level with the two boys, which cause him to wobble just a little bit more than before. His face came so close to their own that the beer on his breath was easily distinguishable. His eyes were glazed over in his drunkenness though they still seemed to smolder with hatred for the two children. Suddenly his hand flashed out, grabbing James by the shirt and tugging him forward. "I asked you a question boy!" He thundered, shaking James like a rag doll before tossing him aside. Their father stepped forward again, seeing Double D cringing in fear. "Let this be a lesson to you boys to respect your elders," he smirked before he commenced beating them.  
  
Double D saw the glass in the mirror shatter a moment before he realized what had caused this reaction. Shards of glass stuck out of his fist and littered the floor or the bathroom. He stared at the blood that was now dripping from his hand and concentrated on the pain. This was probably the first time that he was thankful for blood and pain. At least he was sure that he was still alive.  
  
Tears of sorrow and anger streamed down his pale face, leaving streaks along his cheeks. The blood on his fist didn't matter anymore. All that Double D could think of was that his brother, his friend, his confident was gone. James was gone, and he was never coming back. Double D dropped back to the bathroom floor, this time not bothering to even cushion his fall, and sobbed. 


	2. Nevermore

Disclaimer; HER, "Poor sad Double D…can I keep him and hold him and love him and make him all better?"  
  
Cartoon Network, "No, you can't. He's ours."  
  
HER, "Well…how about Ed…can I at least keep him?"  
  
Cartoon Network, "No"  
  
"Not even Rolf?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
This pretty much means that no part of "Ed, Edd, N Eddy" is mine. It all belongs to Cartoon Network and its creators. I just borrowed them for this fic…I promise to put them back.  
  
  
  
He didn't know how long he had sat there. He didn't really care. Maybe it didn't matter anyway. Nobody except the Eds would miss him. He doubted that his parents would even notice. No, that was a lie. They would notice. They would notice when their sticky notes were no longer answered. When the house grew filthy from their own pig-like ways.  
  
Double D suddenly realized what he was thinking about. Suicide. He had always been taught that suicide was not the answer. That it was wrong and that if he just waited it out, the situation would get better. Well waiting wouldn't make James come back. If it would, Double D would gladly wait until the end of time, just to see his brother alive and happy once more…just to talk to him again…to be with him. Double D sat there, slowly moving his hand in circles, watching as the blood and the glass glinted in the light. It didn't hurt that much. He could probably deal with the pain. Heck, he knew that he could deal with the pain. It would just be a quick little cut up the arm, the long way, not across, the blood could clot then.  
  
The idea wasn't such a bad thing. But could he really do it? Could he really take his own life? He wasn't afraid of the pain. He wasn't afraid of death. He was afraid of the consequences of getting caught. What would "Father" do then? Probably the same thing he always did when Double D did something he didn't like. Double D pulled his feet up under himself as he thought of the bamboo stick. He wasn't sure where it came from or why it was in the house in the first place, though he was pretty sure that it had been brought for the soul purpose of discipline, he just knew that his stepfather could swing it hard, and that there wasn't much fat in his feet to cushion the blows.  
  
Double D thought again about the idea. Why did he even care what his stepfather would do? He would probably be dead for hours before anybody noticed. Double D thought again of James, that was, after all, who this was all about. He missed James already. Maybe if he did kill himself he would be with his brother again. Maybe he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of never being good enough. He wouldn't have to deal with the pain of his mother and father not caring for him. Double D thought about the way he had constantly disappointed everybody who he cared about. None of his inventions ever worked the way that he wanted them to. Ed and Eddy never got what they wanted from those trinkets that Double D was always making. His grades were never good enough. "So you got an A," his stepfather would say, "Well it isn't an +A is it? You could never be as good as your brother Tim."  
  
A sneer spread across his face, thinking back on those words. "You could never be as good as your brother Tim." How many times had he heard those words? How many times had he hated his stepfather for telling them to him, or his mother for agreeing? How many times had he hated Tim for being better than he was? Double D knew that that was ridiculous. Tim had never been better than he was in school or any other aspect of life. Tim wasn't even his brother. Tim was his stepbrother, who had moved out of the house just before they moved to the cul-de-sac. Double D hardly believed that he had moved out. He probably sold everything that he had to buy more crack and ODed on some street corner somewhere.  
  
The tears streamed down Double D's face once more as he thought of how much his mother had loved Tim. It seemed that all she ever cared about was if Tim was happy. He wasn't even her child and she cared more for him than she ever had for Double D or James. They had never been good enough for her. Everything that either he or James had done only worked to make her angry with them. Why did he even try? Double D pondered this question for a long time before he could answer it. Because he loved her. He hated her more than he could stand sometimes, but she was his mother and he loved her like a son always does. She was always berating him. Sometimes he wondered if she felt any love at all in her heart for his brother and him.  
  
Maybe he should just give up. Maybe it wasn't really worth the effort at all. The idea was really beginning to appeal to the youth as he sat watching the glittering of glass and blood. The floor was a mosaic of his blood and tears. Double D thought of how he had kept the façade of joy up, every day in the cul-de-sac. Sometimes he wondered if he would be able to do it for much longer, then the day would end and he could lie in bed and think about how happy he could have been in a different life. Sometimes he wondered what kind of a god would let this happen to someone who tried as hard as he did to be good. He never did anything wrong. Why did this happen to him?  
  
Double D realized that he was wallowing in his own self pity, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. His hand was beginning to hurt from the glass that still glittered in it. Carefully picking the glass from his hand, Double D thought of how long he had until his parents arrived home. It would be hours…four or five hours at least. He would be long gone by then. He wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore if he would just do this one thing. Then why was he stalling?  
  
Sighing, Double D thought of his friends. Most of the kids in the cul-de-sac wouldn't really care, he was sure, but Ed and Eddy…What would become of them? Double D didn't have an answer to that. He wished that he could just say that they would get on with life and that it wouldn't really matter, but he knew he couldn't. He wasn't sure if this would crush them or make them stronger.  
  
"Stop thinking of that!" Double D scolded himself. They would be fine. "Get on with it," he pushed.  
  
Slowly picking up a larger piece of mirror, Double D took in a deep breath. This was going to hurt. 


	3. Last Resort

Disclaimer; HER, "Poor sad Double D...can I keep him and hold him and love him and make him all better?"  
  
Cartoon Network, "No, you can't. He's ours."  
  
HER, "Well...how about Ed...can I at least keep him?"  
  
Cartoon Network, "No"  
  
"Not even Rolf?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
This pretty much means that no part of "Ed, Edd, N Eddy" is mine. It all belongs to Cartoon Network and its creators. I just borrowed them for this fic...I promise to put them back.  
  
The pain wasn't nearly as bad as he had thought it would be. He hardly felt anything at all to tell the truth, but he was quite sure that that was because of adrenaline. As much as Double D hated to admit it, he was a little scared. He had no idea what would become of him after the life had left his body.  
  
He contemplated the phrase "lost his life". That was a pretty accurate phrase. You didn't really know where it went once it left your body. He guessed that it did, in a way, go back to the earth from which it came, but that wasn't exactly what the phrase meant, was it? No, it was more about the soul. It left this world, supposedly, and went on to the next when you died, or that was how it was supposed to go. Double D wondered for a few minutes where his would go. Would it really be like the Heaven that so many books described? Would it be completely immaterial; merely energies ebbing and flowing through and around each other? Could that energy be shaped? He just didn't know.  
  
"I'll know soon enough." The raspy sound of his own voice surprised the boy. How long had he been sitting there? It didn't seem like all that very long. Double D thought on this and looked down to the pool of blood that was forming around him. It had grown quite large. Maybe he had blacked out. He didn't remember blacking out. It didn't really matter now though, did it?  
  
Double D looked down into the broken shards of mirror and suddenly realized how much blood was down there. At least the linoleum floor would make it easy to clean. Double D suddenly realized what he had just thought of. Why should he if his mother or stepfather would be able to clean it up easily? It's not like either of them knew where any of the disinfectants or detergents were anyway. He highly doubted that they would even know how to use the things, let alone knew how to get bloodstains out of anything.  
  
The lights seemed to dim for a moment as Double D looked up at them. It was almost over. Soon he would be out of this world and in the next. Life was so hard. He wondered how so many people could do it anyway. *I'm so weak* Double D cursed himself. *Why can't I do what even Jimmy can do? * It didn't really matter now, though. It was much too late to lament over what he should have been able to do.  
  
Double D slipped down to the floor and rolled onto his side, not having the strength to sit up anymore. The tiles were warm with his blood. The pain was fading away into nothing now. Nothing. Maybe that was what waited for him on the other side. Maybe there was no life after death. What if it all ended with this life and he had just thrown it all away? Double D pushed the thought from his mind, trying to tell himself that he didn't really care that much anyway.  
  
Thoughts of his past began to invade his mind once more. He remembered sitting next to his sick brother's bed, praying for him to get better. He had been sick for months, and showed no sign of improvement. Of course, their father could care less, and their mother pretended not to even notice. It had been hard on both of the brothers to think of James dying. James was more worried about Double D than anything else. He was worried that Double D wouldn't be able to make it without him. Double D snickered a little. Looks like he couldn't make it without him. Wasn't that a kick in the head?  
  
The memories of his days in the cull de sac began to come back to him. He could remember the first day he had met Ed and Eddy. They had taken one look at each other and knew from that moment that they would be friends for life. "Hey, Double D, you're late!" Double D thought that he could hear Eddy calling for him. That was strange. He didn't see a mental image of any time that he had done that.  
  
"Double D! Where are you?" Ed's voice rang out.  
  
That wasn't in his head. It was coming from the kitchen. Double D had completely forgotten that Ed and Eddy were going to stop by. What time was it anyway? They weren't supposed to be there until 3:00. Double D tried to call out for them to go away, but his voice was barely above a whisper. The mere motion of moving his mouth caused the pain to shoot through his entire body once more. Would he just die already? Double D turned his head to the side and threw up, sick from the loss of blood.  
  
"Double D!" Ed yelled for him again. They were closer now. From the sounds of it they were in the living room and heading towards the hallway. They'd find him in the bathroom soon if he weren't careful. Did it really matter though? Was there really anything that they could do to save him? Double D guessed not, considering how much blood he had lost, but that wasn't why he really cared. He didn't want his friends to find him there in the pool of blood and have to watch helplessly as he slowly died. No. He just couldn't do that to them.  
  
Pain ran through his slender frame as he crawled towards the doorway. It seemed so far away from him that it was almost impossible to imagine even reaching it. *I don't have the strength anymore. Why the hell didn't I think of locking the door before I did this? * Double D collapsed halfway to the door, one arm below him, the other outstretched towards the lock. *It doesn't matter anyway. They would have been able to get in anyway. There was no way I could have saved them from this. There was no way I could have saved myself. * The warm sting of tears came yet again, drawing lines down the youth's pale face. How could he have done this? What the hell was wrong with him? *My first thought would be; a lot. * Mused the boy.  
  
"Hey, sockhead," Eddy stopped in the doorway, stunned by the sight of all the blood and his friend lying in the middle of the floor. "Wha..." he found that he couldn't even finish that one word.  
  
"I'm sorry," rasped Double D, though he was pretty sure that neither of them could hear him.  
  
Eddy ran from the room as Ed moved over towards Double D. "No," was all that the big lunkhead could say. Double D understood him though. He was forbidding him to die. Telling him that his time was not up and that he had to stay with him and Eddy. *All that from just one word. * Thought Double D. *I must really be losing it...I wonder what Eddy's doing. * Just then the world started to get dark, and Double D passed out. 


	4. Brotherly Love

Disclaimer: As per always, I don't own any of this. "Ed, Edd N' Eddy" belongs to Cartoon Network and its creator.  
  
A/N: To all of you who gave this story good reviews, thank you. You are what have kept this story going. I hope you like the closing chapter, and I hope you like the story in general. To all of you who gave it bad reviews, even though I'm pretty sure you wouldn't read this last chapter, I would like to say… "Naaaah!" I finished it despite you!  
  
Now on with the story  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
It had been nearly a month since the attempt on his own life. Double D still hadn't left his house yet, but Ed and Eddy had come to visit him everyday. After his near-death experience, Double D was finally beginning to realize that he could wait to see his brother again. He could wait for his death. Right now, he was alive, and alive was just fine with him. His arms were still healing, and he had bandages all the way down them, covering the newly scarring tissue. When he was all-better, he would have some nifty 'battle' scars to show everybody, but he wasn't quite ready to see them all yet.  
  
Ed and Eddy hadn't quite yelled at him when they saw him in the hospital, but they hadn't been completely sweet either. It was to be expected, though. They had been terrified for their friend's life, and it had been Edd's fault. He took full responsibility for it. Nobody had forced him to run the glass down his arms anyway. Edd lowered his head and looked down at his hands in his lap. He shouldn't have done that. He scared Ed and Eddy half to death and they may never get over the image of him on the floor in a pool if his own blood. That was Double D's main regret. He regretted that he had hurt his friends so badly. They really did care for him. They even loved him like he was their brother.  
  
Double D thought about that. He may have lost James, but he had two brothers who were right next door. He should have thought of that earlier. Ed and Eddy were his brothers now. No. They had always been his brothers…he just didn't know it then.  
  
Double D smiled to himself and thought of them. Yeah. They would always be there for him no matter what his problem. He would always have them to help him through anything and everything. They were his friends. They were his family.  
  
At that moment, Ed and Eddy bound into his room. "Hey, Sock-head," exclaimed Eddy. "Miss us?"  
  
"Not anymore." Double D smiled happily. It was the first time in what seemed like centuries that he felt truly happy. It would be a long time before he even began to get over the death of his brother, but for now, he had two brothers with him right then who loved him very much. "What's the scam for today, Eddy?"  
  
Eddy looked at his friend surprised. He had absolutely refused to scam all month long. Finally, Eddy smiled. "I have a great idea for a new- -"  
  
"Buttered toast!" Ed smiled at his friend.  
  
Double D just smiled and stood up. "Let's go outside, guys. I'm sick of being inside all day." 


End file.
